Roger had not worn many rings in his life.
Maybe his class ring in high school but I am not even too sure about that.
Or for how long.
And even though I proposed to him with his band as his engagement ring, he did not wear it until the wedding day.
I did tease him a lot about not wearing his "engagement" ring.
Like on a weekly basis or so.
But he insisted he wanted it to be special.
He wanted to wait until the official day.
It was so cool to see his band on his hand on our wedding day and in the days that followed.
It was a bit surreal.
It was a bit weird to hold his hand with it on but I enjoyed every minute of it.
He was mine.
We were together.
Once summer hit last year though, a slight problem came up.
He complained his ring finger was itchy.
"Yes dear. You still have to wear it."
"But I think something is wrong."
"No, you just need to get used to it."
I did not believe him.
A few weeks later, Roger showed me these weird bumps under his ring.
"Hmm, what is that?"
"I don't know. Maybe you should go to the doctor."
"Do you think it is ring worm?"
"No dear. Ring worm is not on your ring finger."
But I believed him.
There was a slight problem.
He did go to the doctor.
It was a fungus.
I felt slightly bad.
The doctor told him that he had to take off his ring when washing his hands and make sure his hands were very dry before putting it make on.
And then of course apply a medication.
It seemed water was getting trapped along with sweat.
It had become a slight haven for fungus.
I remember telling him, "I do not want to hear how you forgot your ring somewhere at some restaurant."
Teasingly of course.
I knew he was not that type of guy to "accidently" lose his ring.
But he would sometimes leave it around the house.
I would pick it up and hide it.
To see how long it would take him to discover its disappearance.
Much to my surprise and delight, he would notice pretty quickly.
I would act all coy and slowly give it back to him.
After the accident and as soon as he arrived at the hospital, I wanted his ring.
I wanted his ring bad.
I was begging every nurse or resident that came to me to find his ring.
I knew they had removed it from his hand with all the CTs he was getting.
I could not fathom losing it.
I had to have it with me.
Not with some random hospital staff person.
But with me.
Once I had it, I placed it on my thumb of my left hand.
And left it there until it almost fell off.
As I washed my hands yesterday in a public restroom, I thought about Roger's ring.
I started to smile and giggle about Roger's ringworm.
And for six months, he was mine.
All mine as shown on his left hand.